


Leader

by KyeAbove



Series: amnesiac [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesiac Wally Franks, Gen, Insanity, Memory Loss, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 08:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyeAbove/pseuds/KyeAbove
Summary: They may be a cult, but calling them a family might be just as appropriate.Or, Wally and the Man in the Mask know far more about each other than they do themselves.





	Leader

So, about that cult. They may be a cult, but calling them a family might be just as appropriate. I’m not entirely sure why I know what a family looks like, but eventually I just _knew._ Despite their deranged natures, they think of each other highly, even if they aren’t actually related to each other.

The concept of family really worked, especially one of day I encountered them. They weren’t in the middle of some ritual. I gotta say that is kinda odd for them.

The Man in the Mask and one of the others were hand in hand, spinning around, singing some song I can’t recall the lyrics for, together. The others, while in a circle around them, were sitting more casually, many leaning on each other, clapping or half-singing along.

I felt like I was intruding on something special, and I knew I didn’t belong there, but before I could leave them to their fun, the Man in the Mask noticed me, and broke off from the pianist, walking towards me.

Unlike many of the others, the Man in the Mask doesn’t have pieces of instruments stuck through him or as him, or all the other torture the others face. Instead, he’s always carrying his banjo along with him. He’s also the only one who wears a mask, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s hiding anything behind it.

His mask is of the angel, and he’s always been dressed much the same as her. Although unlike hers, his dress is torn along the side to expose one of his legs. But I don’t think the cult is loyal to the angel, only him. The _one_ time I asked about it was the one time he didn’t stop his folk from trying to kill me, and I barely made it out alive.

This time, thankfully, he seemed friendly and open.

“Hello, Wally.” The Man in the Mask greeted me. His tone was pitched, and there was a grin to it. One thing the Man in the Mask has always been amazing at is easily emoting despite his hidden face. “Care to join us?”  
  
The Man in the Mask held out his hand, and I laughed nervously.

“I don’t think I- _ahc._ ” Before I could completely turn him down, he pulled my mop from my hand, and tossed it aside. From there he grabbed both my hands, and forced me into a spin. I never said the Man in the Mask was a considerate person, did I?

After the first spin, I broke away.

“What the heck?”

The Man in the Mask’s shoulders slumped.

“I thought you’d find it fun. It does count as slacking off, doesn’t it?”

Behind us, the other cult members muttered and made sounds of agreement. Me, not so much.

“I shouldn’t be slacking off. At least, not too much.” I’m the backbone of this place. If I slacked off too much, we’d never stop stepping in ink and guts.

“Have you lost your keys?” The question was so sudden, yet it struck a nerve I didn’t even know I had.

“No. They’re right h-” I stuck my hand down my front pocket, intending to pull them out. Nothing touched my fingers. “Huh?”

Okay, so I lost my keys. What’s the big deal?

“Thank you for proving my point, Wally.”

“You really like calling me that, don’t you?”

The Man in the Mask made some sound of amusement, before speaking once more.

“It’s your name. You should call me Sammy.”

I thought the name sounded familiar. But only as familiar as the name Wally is. I can’t even trust that its my name. But _Sammy_ is much easier to say and think than referring to his mask.

“Sure. Okay. Sammy.”

Sammy laughed, and then started pointing to some of the other cultists.

“That’s Johnny.” He said of the pianist, who he’d been dancing with. “Jack,” Of the lost soul sitting at Johnny’s feet, and from there he continued, until I had a name for every single one of them.

All of them had names. I have no name I’ll accept. I admit, I’m kinda jealous. The name Wally is fine, but it doesn’t feel _right._

“Would you _like_ to join us?” Johnny asked, in a tone that said he was less than pleased by Sammy’s prompt attempt to get me to join their dancing.

“I really am busy. Now I gotta find my keys too.”

Johnny nodded, accepting this, but Sammy wasn’t so keen.

“ _Nooo_ , you must join us. Why wouldn’t you join us? We like you, Wally.”

That was my cue to leave. Sammy had times where _no_ was literally a word he didn’t know, and his friendly stance was disappearing. Sammy could be kind, but he was just about as broken as the rest of us.

“Sorry, I’m going now.” I dived for my broom, rolling and just narrowly missing Jack. Sammy made a sound of despair, but Johnny was already holding onto him.  
  
I left them, because I could be needed elsewhere. They might be a family, but they weren’t my family.


End file.
